


Mr. Grinch

by thoughtlessblogger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grinch References, Grinch!Louis, Humor, M/M, Mostly Fluff, OT5 Friendship, also Christmas puns, bet you can't guess who tells them, it wasn't intended, only not really, or I'd like to think there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtlessblogger/pseuds/thoughtlessblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry smirks at him before turning around and crouching so he can rummage through one of the boxes. Louis doesn't leave immediately, choosing to watch Harry as Michael Buble fades into John Lennon's “Happy Xmas”. Maybe Christmas is the time for miracles, he thinks as he walks out of the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Grinch

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be Christmas fluff, but somehow a little bit of angst fought it's way into it.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope everyone of you have Happy Holidays!!

He opens the door to the house and walks in. Shutting the door behind him, he calls out “Harry, love! You home?”, which is something he could have answered himself had he bothered to look for Harry's Range Rover, but as it is, he didn't.

He doesn't get a response, so he shrugs out of his coat and hangs it on the coat rack. He takes a step, tripping on something, which is...weird. He could walk this house all over in his sleep he knows it so well. There's not supposed to be anything in the hall. He reaches over to flip on the light and looks down. There's a box. Cocking his head, he quickly scans the rest of the area to see about ten more boxes littered around. Raising an eyebrow, he crouches down to inspect the box at his feet. Written is Harry's familiar handwriting is the word, “Christmas”. 

“What in the hell?” he mutters to himself. Standing up, he calls “Harry?” Like the first time, he's not really expecting anything, but this time he hears something hit the ground, bells, and a muffled “shit”. “Harry?” he calls again.

“In here,” comes Harry's voice from the next room.

He walks into the main room to see around twenty more boxes, some open with decorations falling out. All the boxes seemed to be marked with Harry's familiar “Christmas”. And in the middle of all this is Harry sitting crossed legged on the floor, with sleigh bells around his neck and silver tinsel in his hair. 

“What the fuck is going on?” he demands, frozen in the doorway.

Harry beams up at him, looking much like a small child. “Christmas, Lou,” he answers, stumbling to his feet, sleigh bells jingling. “These,” he motions to the boxes on the floor, “are Christmas decorations.”

“We don't have that many,” he points out. “Where'd they all come from?” Shaking himself out his momentary trance, he takes another look around the room. “It's the middle of fucking November!” he says in disbelief, voice louder than it should be, when his eyes land back on Harry.

Harry doesn't look deterred. “Never too early for Christmas, Lou.”

“Yes it fucking is,” he says, taking a step further into the room and tripping over a wreath.

Harry wipes his hands on his thighs, shaking his head. “Not really, no.”

“Yes-.” Louis shakes the wreath of his foot. “Yes, it is.”

“Don't be such a grinch,” Harry says, a suspicious grin occupying his face.

Louis's eyes widen slowly. He has a feeling he knows exactly what Harry's about to do. “No, Harry.”

“Yes, Louis.” Harry's grin widens as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“No.” Louis shakes his head, putting his hands up defensively, trying to back out of the room, but he trips over the damn wreath again.

Harry pushes a button on his phone and “You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” starts playing like he'd been expecting Louis to be a grouch about this. Harry is an idiot. 

“You're an idiot,” he groans, trying not to smile as Harry starts dancing, bells making atrocious jingling noises, and singing the song to him, overshadowing Thurl Ravenscroft. “Stop singing to me.” He fails miserably at trying to contain his smile.

Harry continues singing and he's dancing toward Louis, who can't do anything, but try to school his face into a look of irritation. He crosses his arms and does his best to glare at him. When Harry gets in front of him he stops dancing but continues to sing.

“You're a three-decker saurkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce,” Harry sings, over doing it a bit.

When he stops, Louis quirks an eyebrow. “Happy?” he asks, as Michael Buble's version of “Grown-Up Christmas List” starts playing.

Harry smiles at him, bringing his arms up to rest on Louis's shoulders, hands clasping behind his neck. “It's Christmas. Of course, I'm happy.”

“It's November,” he points out, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist.

Harry smile falters. “Don't be grumpy.”

“Not trying to be.” Harry starts swaying them back and forth, the bells making tiny noises. “It's just not Christmas.”

“Does this have anything to do with your birthday getting close?” Harry leans his head down to rest on Louis's shoulder.

“Why would it?”

“Another year of getting closer to death. Another year of shit,” Harry quotes, doing his best to mimic Louis's voice.

He sighs. It's not that _exactly_. He loves this time of year, always has, but the past few years have been kind of not okay for him and Harry. They don't ever get to do what _they_ really want. So, yeah, he's a bit down right now, but this year is looking promising and he doesn't want to bring Harry's mood down.

“You're not leaving me,” he mutters into Harry's neck – or tries since the sleigh bells are in the way – as Harry brings his arms down to Louis's waist.

Harry seems to understand what Louis means if the slight squeeze is anything to go by. “Never leaving you,” he says. Harry quickly pecks his forehead before pulling back. Narrowing his eyes in his best attempt at a glare, he says, “Now, perk up. Be happy.”

Despite his smile, he rolls his eyes. “I may love Christmas, but it's November.” He drops his arms from Harry's waist and takes a step back. “You started this, you can finish.”

Harry's brow furrows. “You don't want to help decorate?”

“I'll help with the tree.” 

Harry looks alarmed. “I don't have a tree yet.”

“We don't have to have a real one, you know. And we've got time.”

“Yes we do.” Harry turns around and walks back to the boxes. “Now,” he turns back to face Louis, “Get out of here.”

Louis makes an affronted noise. “I thought you wanted me to help.”

“Nope,” Harry pops the 'p'. “I want to do something first. So leave.”

“Yeah, okay. I'll go.”

Harry smirks at him before turning around and crouching so he can rummage through one of the boxes. Louis doesn't leave immediately, choosing to watch Harry as Michael Buble fades into John Lennon's “Happy Xmas”. Maybe Christmas is the time for miracles, he thinks as he walks out of the room.

**

Hours later, he goes to check on Harry only to find the room in even more disarray than before and Harry buried deep in a box.

“I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you haven't been decorating.”

Harry stands up, full on pouting. “I can't find it all,” he says, crossing his arms. He's removed the sleigh bells – thank god – but the tinsel is still in his hair.

“Find all of what?”

“The mistletoe.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “How much do we have?”

Harry sighs hard. “I wanted to find all the mistletoe so we could have some in every room.”

That did not answer his question, but Harry seems distraught so he asks, “Why?”

“So I'd have an excuse to kiss you,” he answers, unabashedly.

“You don't need an excuse to kiss me,” he argues, because that's the most ridiculous thing Harry has ever said.

“I wanted mistletoe,” he whines.

“We'll find your mistletoe, love,” he says, walking over to Harry. “But I think you need to take a break,” he adds, stepping closer to him.

Harry shakes his head. “Don't want a break. I want to find the mistletoe.”

“Break time.”

Louis grabs Harry by the wrist and starts pulling him out of the room. Harry goes willingly, but abruptly stops when they're in the doorway causing Louis to jerk back.

Louis turns to look at him. “What?” he asks, when Harry just smiles at him.

“Mistletoe,” is all he gets. His eyebrows knit together and Harry uses his free hand to point up. Louis follows the motion and sees mistletoe hanging above them. _But_ didn't Harry say he couldn't find it? Or did he say _all_ of it? Or...what?

“Ah, yes,” he breathes out, looking back at Harry. “Mistletoe.”

Harry doesn't give him much of chance to prepare himself before grabbing the back of Louis's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles into it, bringing his hand up to tangle in the hair that's curling around Harry's neck. Harry smells and tastes like cinnamon, but Louis doesn't get a chance to revel in in before Harry pulls away. He's a bit breathless and he's smiling like the Cheshire cat.

“I think I know where the mistletoe is now.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“The mistletoe,” he says like it explains everything. “I think it's in the bedroom.”

“The fuck would it be in the bedroom?” As soon as it's out, he gets it. “Oh.” Harry's actually smirking at him. “Idiot,” he mumbles.

“You love me.”

“I do,” he says, before pulling Harry in for another quick kiss. When they break apart, he grabs Harry's hand, intertwining their fingers. “Now, let's go upstairs.”

Harry nods. “And find the mistletoe,” he says with all the seriousness in the world.

“Come on,” he says, tugging Harry toward the stairs. 

“But the mistletoe,” Harry objects. 

“Didn't you say it was upstairs?”

“There was mistletoe right there.”

Louis stops walking and pushes Harry against the wall by the stairs. “Will you shut up about the mistletoe?” Because really Harry isn't making much sense. Or his mind is actually running on over drive right now, causing him to jump from topic to topic – or at least back and forth between two – and there is only one thing on Louis's mind right now.

Harry blinks, spreading his legs for Louis to stand between. “We're getting a tree tomorrow,” he says, a bit breathless. “You and me. Together. We're getting a real tree.”

“We'll get a fake one.”

“I want a real one,” he insists.

“Will you shut up?” Louis mutters, leaning forward.

“Will you get me a tree?” counters with.

“I'll get you a whole fucking forest if you'll shut up,” he all but growls, nudging Harry's head to the side to access the skin on his neck.

Harry runs his hands up Louis's biceps as he bites down. “I don't need a whole forest, Louis. That wouldn't be fair to everyone else.”

“Everyone else?” Louis mentally slaps himself for playing along.

“Yeah. Although, I suppose I could let the woodland creatures continue to live there,” he reasons.

Louis belts out a laugh. “I love you.”

“Good, now take me upstairs.”

Louis bites down on Harry's neck, causing Harry to hiss. He steps back, linking their hands. He starts toward the stairs again, but stops abruptly. He turns to Harry, who's brow is knitted together.

“Lou?”

“Just to be clear,” he says. “When you said take me upstairs you did mean for sex, right? You're not still wanting to look for mistletoe?” 

Harry's face is straight for all of two seconds before he breaks out into uncontrollable laughter. Louis drops his hand, crossing his arms across his chest and sticking a hip out.

When Harry has stopped laughing, he looks at Louis. His eyes are twinkling. “Louis, you are a very smart man, but stop being stupid.”

“I wasn't the one trying to use mistletoe as an excuse to have sex.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but he hears Niall's voice say “You two are ridiculous.”

Louis spins around on his heel, glare already present. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Niall grins, unashamed. “Apparently, I'm cockblocking.” 

Harry snorts, somewhere behind him. 

“Why are you here?” he asks again.

“Harry rang me,” he explains. 

Louis's mouth falls open. He turns to look at Harry. There's a slight blush on his face. “You didn't think to tell me that Niall was on his way over before you tried to get me in bed?”

Harry shrugs. “I figured he'd just wait down here. Not my fault you were being difficult.”

Louis squawks indignantly, but doesn't have a chance to defend himself because Zayn has appeared out of no where.

“Not a surprise there,” he says, taking off his coat and throwing it at Niall.

It covers Niall's head and he pulls it away, unperturbed. “Liam here?” he directs at Zayn.

Turning to Harry, Louis asks, “You invite the whole of London, did you?”

Harry purses his lips. “Nonsense. We don't have _that_ much room.”

“Liam's outside,” Zayn answers.

“Oh, good.” Harry claps his hands together. “We should help him.”

“Help him?” Louis asks.

“No way,” Zayn blurts out. “I had to help him carry the fucking thing to the truck. I'm not carrying it again. You know how he gets.”

“Carry what?” Nobody answers him. “And since when does Liam have a truck?”

Again nobody answers him.

“I'm serious,” Zayn says. “I'm not helping. I don't want to hear that I'm not leveling with him again.”

“Leveling?” Niall questions, throwing Zayn's coat back at him.

Zayn catches it without blinking. “Yeah, apparently I was holding my end too high. I adjusted, but then it was too low. Then I was shaking it, whatever that meant.”

Niall nods. “Ah.”

“Are you just going to let him freeze out there, then?”

The three of them turn to look at him, all looking like they forgot he was there.

“Oh!” Harry's face lights up. “Zayn, take Louis upstairs. Don't let him come down. And make sure he doesn't look out the windows.”

“What?”

Again, he's ignored. 

“If it means I don't have to help Liam, I'm game.”

“Harry, what in the hell is going on?”

Harry doesn't answer him. Instead, he walks outside with Niall. Louis turns to Zayn.

Cocking an eyebrow, he asks, “What's going on?” Zayn shrugs. “You're not telling me are you?”

“Been sworn to secrecy,” he answers. “Now, let's get you upstairs before Harry kills me.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but complies. Harry's got some weird plan in the works and he seems happy. He can't stand in the way of that.

**

Zayn was doing a good job keeping him upstairs – not that he was trying too hard to escape – but then there was a crash from downstairs followed by Liam and Niall shouting. Him and Zayn had looked at each for half a second before jumping up and running downstairs.

Out of everything Louis was expecting to find, this was _not_ it. There is a tree. A close to seven foot spruce laying on it's side, spanning the length of almost two rooms. There's a broken lamp on the floor and Liam and Niall are standing at opposite ends of the tree yelling at each other. Harry is standing by the wall with a panicked look in his eyes.

“I told you not to let go!” Liam yells, from his spot by the bottom of the tree. 

“Exactly how the fuck am I supposed to not let go when you're trying to sit it upright!” Niall yells back, his accent more prominent, and gesticulating wildly. “My arms don't stretch!”

“I was not trying to upright it then!”

“I have a bum knee!” Niall yells, causing Louis to roll his eyes.

“You have got to stop using that as an excuse,” he says, drawing their attention to him. He notices Harry's eyes widen in fright and surprise.

“Louis's right, Niall,” Liam huffs out. “You're knee had nothing to do with it and you know it.”

Niall moves forward, raising his hand like he's going to punch Liam. “I will fuckin-”.

“Alright,” Louis exclaims, causing Niall to stop moving and drop his hand. He squeezes past the tree to step into the room they're in, Zayn following behind him. “You two need to chill out.” Liam and Niall start to argue, but he holds his hand up. “I mean it. Stop bickering.”

Louis turns his body to Harry. “Now, you explain.”

Harry fish mouths for a second, searching for his answer. “There is a _very_ good explanation,” he nods. “You see, um, like. I just wanted, 'cause like.”

“I thought we were going to get a tree tomorrow,” he voices. Because like, they were just talking earlier about going and getting one tomorrow. Louis even offered to buy him a whole forest, but he refuses to admit that he's disappointed. He's not going to let Harry know that. Or the others for that matter because they will give him shit for it.

“We were. For the upstairs,” he explains.

“The upstairs?”

Harry nods, quickly. “And the dining area.”

“We're getting a tree for every room then?”

“Yes.”

“Even the kitchen?”

“A tiny one.”

“So what's with this one?” he asks, sweeping his hand to indicate the tree.

“Well, like, we're all going to be in different places for Christmas, 'cept for the two of us.” Harry takes a deep breath. “I wanted us all to do something Christmasy together. I thought decorating a tree would be nice. And like, other Christmasy things.”

Harry seems a bit embarrassed, which is stupid. He shouldn't be. It's a really nice idea and honestly he doesn't know why they've never done something like this before, but it is Harry and there's a seven foot tree and a broken lamp laying on their floor.

“I think it's a nice idea,” Liam says, calmer than before.

“Oh well, I agree,” Louis says, never taking his eyes off Harry.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Louis says with a genuine smile.

“Cool.” Harry's face lights up like the sun an it shouldn't affect Louis as much as it does. 

Louis halfheartedly rolls his eyes.

“I told you,” Zayn says, walking over to Niall. “He was being a right twat about the whole tree thing.”

“I was not,” Liam insists.

Zayn's probably right. Liam gets weird sometimes. They've all seen it. It's not nice and it's usually best to ignore him, but they all have a limit. It's just a matter of when they reach said limit and each of their's is different – Harry, unsurprisingly handles Liam the best. He turns to Liam and has to fight the urge to laugh. Liam is honest to god wearing red and black plaid with yellow braces and his beard is a lot fuller than he's ever had it.

“Cut the tree down yourself there, Lumberjack?”

Liam crosses his arms, rolling his eyes. “Jokes already been made, mate.”

“By who?” he asks, affronted.

“Zayn.”

“Zayn,” he growls out, turning to him.

“It's true,” he shrugs. “Couldn't stop laughing.”

“I don't really get why you're wearing the braces,” Niall says.

“I'm not speaking to you,” Liam says, turning his head away from Niall, who rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on,” Harry drawls out, stepping away from the wall. “This is our Christmas. Stop fighting and be happy.”

“If you don't he'll play The Grinch,” Louis points out at the same time Zayn says, “It's November”.

Harry smiles at him. “I totally will.” Then he turns to Zayn with his best attempt at a scowl. “I'm aware it's November, Zayn, but as I just explained I want us to have a Christmas together.”

“We can't do that in December?” Zayn questions.

And yeah, that's a good point. Louis sees his own confusion mirrored on Niall and Liam's faces.

“He's got a point, Harry,” he says.

“Niall's leaving in a week,” he sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose like this is something they should have known, which maybe they were – Niall certainly should have. “He won't be here in December.”

“I could always catch a flight back,” Niall provides.

Harry snorts. “Don't be silly.”

Niall's brow wrinkles. “Yeah, alright.”

“Okay,” Louis says, trying to step over the tree. He's mostly successful thanks to Niall's help. “This whole Christmas for ourselves thing is great and all, but there's still a tree laying sideways in my house.”

“What if there's a squirrel in there or, you know? Something else?” Liam asks taking a step back, eyes a little wider than normal.

Louis's brow furrows. “You could take on a squirrel, Liam. It's like, you could step on it.” His voice is laced with confusion. Liam can't be afraid of a squirrel. Can he?

“Don't much care for squirrels,” he says in return.

“Don't be daft.”

“I'm sure it's fine,” Harry says, coming closer to the tree. “And if there is a squirrel, we'll catch it and release it into the wild.”

“Yeah, we'll let ranger Harry deal with any woodland creatures we might come across.” Harry laughs so hard he chokes. “Not that funny, babe.”

“Wasn't funny at all,” he hears Zayn mutter.

He chooses to ignore him. For once Zayn was actually right about Louis not being funny. He won't admit it out loud, though.

“Can we pick this tree up?” he demands, motioning to the tree.

“Don't know how we're going to do that,” Niall answers.

“I've got an idea,” Liam volunteers, stepping forward.

“I was afraid of that,” Niall and Zayn say at the same time.

Liam purses his lips, crossing his arms, but doesn't argue. Harry takes this as his opportunity. He walks – more like skips – to as close to the center of the room as he can get.

“Alright, team,” he says, clapping his hands together and rubbing. “I think we should listen to Liam.” Zayn and Niall both groan. Harry's smile falters so he can glare at them, but then the smile is back. “I want to get this tree up quickly, so we can get in all the plans I have for the evening.”

“What plans?”

Harry turns to him. “You'll see.” And then he winks.

And if that isn't ominous. 

“Harry, what do you have planned?” he asks, slow and calm.

Harry's smile grows. “You'll see,” he says again. “By the way, I wanted to have the tree up when you came down. That's why I had Zayn keep you upstairs,” he explains. “But, well.” He trails off, looking solemnly down at the tree. He stares at it for a second, before popping his head back up, smile in place. “You ready?”

And he's so much like a child right now. So enthusiastic and warm and full of unadulterated joy, like they haven't just broken a lamp and have a tree laying sideways behind them. And he just looks so damn good. And he's warming Louis's heart just by smiling at him. Sometimes Harry is just too much.

Louis smiles back at him, the sides of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I'm ready.”

**

It took a lot of Liam huffing and puffing that they were doing things wrong and shouting orders at them. A lot of Niall saying he had a bum knee and “Fuckin' do it yourself” to Liam. A lot of Zayn leaning against the wall telling Liam how _he_ was doing things wrong, but not offering to actually help. A lot of Harry trying to help, but making things worse when he'd trip over air. And a lot of Louis pretending to be busy, but they finally got the damn tree upright in the corner Harry had deemed the “tree corner”.

He has to admit, he didn't think it'd fit or look right in that corner, but Harry was right. It does, except now, though, he's wondering how they're going to decorate a tree this big and how they're going to pick up all the pine needles. Harry assured him that the needles weren't a problem and that they did in fact have enough decorations. Which is why they have the fireplace going and the eggnog Harry pulled out of nowhere and they're sprawled out all over the room rummaging through boxes.

“Aha!” Niall exclaims, pulling out a tangled mess of fairy lights from his box. 

“I knew they were somewhere,” Harry says, dropping stuff back in his box and walking over to Niall.

“Just like you knew the mistletoe was somewhere.” He meant to say it so Harry was the only one to hear, but judging by the confused looks on the others faces before Harry bursts out in laughter they heard him.

“Don't you need, like, special lights for a real tree?” Zayn inquires.

“These are the special lights,” Harry answers, ripping them away from Niall.

“Is there enough?” Niall asks, not reacting to Harry's ripping away of the lights.

“There's more,” Harry says over his shoulder as he walks toward the tree. “Liam, be a dear and help me with these.”

“What if I want to help?” Louis voices.

“Sorry, babe, but Liam's arms are longer.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Harry doesn't answer from where he's trying to untangle the lights. Louis looks to Liam, who shrugs before joining Harry. And he can't really be too angry because Harry is just so happy. He shakes his head, then starts rummaging through his box again – he doesn't understand why they need or have so many different red and green candles. 

He feels a body slide up next to him. It's Zayn – he can smell the smoke and his cologne. He doesn't say anything for a while, just lets Louis continue rummaging, which is fine with him. He knows what's coming.

“Harry seems happy,” Zayn finally says.

“Yeah.”

“Happier than normal for this time of year.”

“Harry loves Christmas,” Louis says, like it means anything, as he pulls out a gold candle holder from the box. He surveys it quickly, shows it to Zayn who gives an unimpressed shrug, then sets it back in the box. He sighs when Zayn doesn't say anything else. “What do you want, Zayn?”

“Is there any plans?” he asks, plain and simple. And really that's just a testament to how things have been lately. 

“No,” he answers. He stops looking through the box and twists his body around to face Zayn. “Nobody has said anything. At all. I'm waiting for it, but he thinks there's not going to be anything.”

Zayn tilts his head at that. “He has hope. Don't ruin that for him.”

Louis quickly shakes his head. “I'm not. I just.” He pauses. He's honestly not sure how he feels or what he thinks. He should know how he feels, though, but he really doesn't want to upset Harry, so he's been trying not to think about it too much. “I don't really know what's going on, but I'm living in the moment. It's all good.”

Zayn gives him an assessing look. “Okay.” 

He looks like he wants to say more, which is slightly disconcerting, but even if he wanted to Niall comes over, plopping himself down on Louis's other side.

“Why do you have so much shit?”

“Harry's a bit Christmas happy,” he answers. “Aren't you, Harry?” He calls.

Harry turns around, brows knitted. “What?”

“Christmas happy.”

Harry fucking beams. “Of course.” Then he turns back to Liam and the tree.

Louis watches him. Harry really is happy. It's radiating off of him and he's just so attractive when he's happy – he's always attractive, but the happiness makes it a thousand percent better if you ask Louis. Zayn's right, though. He's been especially happy lately. Always smiling, always in a good mood. Seeing him like this makes Louis's heart grow ten times it size – kind of like the Grinch, only not really.

“There!” Harry exclaims, stepping back from the tree. Liam climbs out from behind it joining Harry.

“We did good,” he says, patting Harry on the shoulder. 

Harry turns and smiles at him. “Of course we did. I'd even say it's perfect.”

“So, Harry,” Zayn begins, “what else do you have planned?”

Harry's face lights up. “I'm glad you asked, Zayn.” He walks away from the tree, going to a box in the corner that none of them have touched. He reaches in and pulls out what looks like Santa hats. “We're going to put these on, first of all.” 

Zayn groans beside him, but one glance over proves to Louis that he's smiling. Harry distributes the hats, waiting with each of them until they put it on before he moves on to the next. 

“What else, Harry?” Louis asks after all the hats are on, his lopsided because it's a tad too small.

“Well, I was thinking we'd finish the tree and put up the rest of the decorations around the house.”

“What about outside?” Liam inquires, holding up the top half of an outdoor reindeer.

“Oh, I'm paying someone to do that,” Harry answers. “I don't really trust any of us with outdoor things.”

“Hang on,” Louis says, glancing over the pile of outdoor decorations. “Why do we have so much outdoor stuff anyway? Did we have this much before?”

Harry's eyes dance around, taking in Louis's face like he thinks he's joking. “Yes, Lou.”

“Alright,” he says, holding his hands up defensively. “Didn't remember is all.”

Harry gives him a small smile. “We can bake if you all want. I have the stuff.”

“Do we have time for all that?” Niall asks, standing up.

Harry shrugs. “It's still early. And it's not like we have anywhere to be.”

“I do,” Zayn chips in. It's obvious he means Perrie – makes sense – but Harry's face immediately falls. Louis turns his head to glare at Zayn, who's looks alarmed. “No, I mean,” Zayn corrects. “It's fine. I'll stay.”

“Well, don't if you don't want to,” Harry pouts.

“No, Harry. I do,” he rushes out. “I really do. I just can't stay _all_ night.”

Harry perks up at that. “I'm not going to hold you hostage.”

“What else, Harry?” Louis asks, again, looking up at him, because Harry has _got_ to have more plans.

“We're going to sing Christmas carols,” he says.

“Are you serious?” Zayn groans, the same time Liam says, “You don't think we sing enough as it is?”

“Sounds fun, I think,” Niall says, causing Harry to jump up and down. Niall turns to him. “What about you, Louis?” 

“We could do a Christmas album,” he suggests, which was possibly not the best thing to say, judging by Harry's reaction.

He freezes for a minute, eyes wide and mouth agape. “That is a _brilliant_ idea. Do you think the label would approve?”

“Oh god, no,” Liam says, before taking a drink of his eggnog.

“No,” Zayn says to Harry. “No.” He turns to Louis. “Tell him no. Fix this. You made this problem.”

“Harry, I don't think that's the best idea,” he tries to say, but Harry starts talking over him.

“Oh. And I have Christmas puns.”

“Fucking hell,” Niall mumbles.

“What,” Harry starts, “do you call Santa Clause after he's fallen into a fireplace?”

The others just stare at him, and with each passing second Harry's face falls.

“What do you call him, Harry?” Louis asks, because it's apparently his job to encourage this.

Harry smiles at him. “Krisp Kringle.”

“What?” He exclaims. 

“That's not funny,” Liam says. “That's just depressing.”

“Okay okay. I have another one,” Harry suggests, causing them to groan. “What did the Gingerbread Man put on his bed?”

This time Louis isn't the only one to ask what.

“A cookie sheet,” Harry giggles.

“Can we be done with this?” Zayn asks.

“For now.”

“Why the fuck do you have so much mistletoe?” 

They all turn to see Niall bringing his hands out of a box. He's holding two giant handfuls of mistletoe. Harry and Louis both resolve into giggles.

Niall immediately drops the mistletoe back in the box. “I don't want to know,” he says, holding his hands up.

Harry stops giggling, face going serious. “We need to get to work.” Nobody moves, and he clears his throat.

“Yeah, yeah. Work,” Liam says.

“Of course,” Zayn agrees.

Niall is already rummaging through another box.

Harry looks at him. “Louis?”

“Right,” he says, jumping up.

“You're future kids are either going to love you or hate you,” Niall says.

Harry tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“You're being weird about this Christmas thing.”

Harry's head only tilts further. “I'm not being weird.”

“You're always weird,” Louis says, going to stand next to him. “Don't listen to Niall. He's no idea what he's talking about.”

Harry turns to him. “That's nice, Lou. Now get to work.”

**

They've been working for hours and the place looks kind of like a mess and kind of actually decorated. It's very clear none of them are ever going to have a career in decorating – well, maybe Harry, his decorating is pretty nice and Louis isn't just saying that. They still have a lot more to do.

Harry's standing in front of the tree, head slightly tilted as he messes with one of the branches that he said didn't look right half an hour ago. Louis sets down the candles he's been arranging on the fireplace – it was the only thing Harry trusted him with – and walks over to Harry. He wraps his arms around Harry's waist, clasping his hands together, and pulls Harry to him.

“This is nice,” he says. “I'm glad we did this.”

Harry stops fiddling with that branch and covers Louis's hands with his own. “I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself.” Louis hums into Harry's shoulder. “I planned this for you,” Harry continues, quietly. “I know you love this time of year, but never really get to enjoy it.”

“I am so far.” His words are muffled by the fabric of Harry's shirt. “I love you so much.”

“I should hope so,” Harry says, dryly. “In all seriousness, though.” He pauses to turn around in Louis's arms. “I love you more than anything in this world. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, that's really all I want for you too.”

Harry smiles. “Listen, I know there's no mistletoe, but I'd very much like to kiss you.”

Louis rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. “I told you, Harold. You don't need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss me.”

So Harry does. He leans right in and kisses him. Louis's hands instinctively move to Harry's hair. Harry still tastes like cinnamon, but there's the added taste of chocolate and eggnog. And it's a short kiss. Harry pulls back, hand still on Louis's jaw, pupils dilated.

“How much left over tinsel do we have?” he asks, catching Louis off guard.

“I don't know.” He blinks slowly. “Why”

Harry leans closer, mouth directly by Louis's ear. “I'm just wondering how well you could tie me up with it.”

Louis chokes on air. “I could definitely do that.”

“Oi! Stop planning your sexual escapades when you're in the same room as us,” Niall yells from across the room.

“I second that!” comes Liam's voice.

Zayn says nothing. He might be asleep.

“How soon can we kick them out?” Harry asks.

“I dunno. You planned everything.”

“Well, if we go by my plans, they won't leave for another six hours.” Harry bites at Louis's earlobe. “But, we can just get them back tomorrow to finish.”

“I thought we were going tree shopping tomorrow. And I was going to buy you a whole forest.”

“Won't take that long. They'll have time to come over.”

“Then kick them out.”

“We're already leaving,” Zayn says.

Him and Harry break apart. Sure enough, the three of them are standing there, bundled up in their coats, smiling.

“You'll come back tomorrow, though?” Harry asks, voice filled with hope.

“Of course,” Zayn says, Liam and Niall nodding behind him.

“Think I'll check first to make sure you aren't fucking, though,” Niall adds, before turning and walking out, Liam following.

“Uh, Lou,” Zayn says, hesitantly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Be back,” he says to Harry as he walks into the hall.

Zayn just stands there, staring at him like it was Louis that wanted to talk and – _oh_. He sees what this is. Zayn's about to attempt a heart to heart. 

“What is it, Zayn?” Louis pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just come out with it.”

Zayn lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand though his hair. “How are you? Like, really. _How are you?_ Like with everything. Especially now.”

Louis glances down for a second. When he brings his head back up Zayn is staring intently at him, with that glint of worry in his eyes. “I'm good. Well, mostly. I've still got Harry, so you know. I'm good.”

“I just. A lot of shit's gone down. And I know how you get this time of year.”

“Yeah, no. I get it.” 

There's a part of him that hopes Harry is listening to this because there's so much that's unsaid between them right now that he can't bring himself to say. But there's also a part of him that hopes Harry isn't listening. That he's still in the other room, messing around with whatever weird decoration he's found and trying to come up with his next pun.

“Despite everything,” he continues, “Harry and I are good. Great even. I'm not so good,” he admits, causing Zayn to narrow his eyes. “I mean, it's shit, you know? Well, I guess you don't. Not really.” Zayn nods his agreement. “But Harry's here and he's happy. Stupidly happy right now for whatever reason, so I'm good.”

Zayn's quiet and he hates that because it means he's got more to say, but doesn't know how to go about it.

“You know,” he begins, “your happiness can't be based solely on Harry's.”

And there it is. And like, he expected that because it's true. It can't really, but for the time being it will because Harry is happy and at the moment its all Louis cares about it.

“You think I don't know that?” And he didn't really mean to be an arse about it. Thank god Zayn doesn't seem too caught off guard. “Sorry. I get it. I understand what you're saying. It's just, I don't really have much right now to be happy about. I've got Harry and Harry's happy, so it makes me happy. It's not the best situation, but that's what's happening.”

Zayn's nodding, repeatedly. “Yeah, okay. I'm not trying to start anything. Just trying to figure things out.”

“Okay.”

“Louis.” Zayn steps forward, pulling Louis into a hug. Louis wraps his arms around Zayn. “You all will be alright. 'Cause you've got each other and you've got us.” He squeezes Louis a bit. “Just, you'll be okay. And I'm always around if you need to chat.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Louis squeezes back and they hold each other for a minute before letting go. Zayn takes a step back.

“You should go back in there,” he says, nodding his head toward the other room. “The two of you should take some time. We'll be back tomorrow.”

Louis nods and Zayn walks out. It's not the first conversation they've had like that and it won't be the last, but there isn't much that he can do. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, giving himself a minute. He can hear the soft sound of some Christmas song playing and Harry puttering around.

He sighs again – composing himself – then smiles, walking into the room. Harry's by the tree and doesn't notice him walk in. He grabs a piece of mistletoe from the box, hiding it behind his back, and walks over to where Harry is messing with the same tree branch as before. 

“Hey,” he says.

Harry jumps before turning around, a blinding smile present. “You're back.”

“Told you I would be.”

Harry cocks his head. “What do we do now?”

“Well, it just so happens I found something.”

Harry's brow furrows. “Did you?”

“Uh-huh.” 

He pulls out the mistletoe from behind his back and holds it above their heads. He sees the confusion cross Harry's face before he fucking beams at him.

“Don't think I'm in the mood anymore, really,” he says, dryly.

“Fucking shut up and kiss me.”

And he does. And it's great. And Louis forgets about all their problems because right now, in this moment, they're together and that's all that matters.


End file.
